


Stirring

by starrylitme



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Banter, Coffee Shops, Complicated Relationships, Established Relationship, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Canon, Tsunderes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: There was no reason to fight anymore. There was also no reason to see each other. And yet, the idea of just letting Akechi go and turning his back like none of it ever really mattered as if their interactions had only ever been out of necessity...and maybe some of them were. Maybe there were utilitarian exchanges between billiards and coffee.If he really believed that, he wouldn’t have approached Akechi again in the first place. The sentiment of closure only held so much weight when it came to the messy relationships between messy human beings.(Post-Canon AU where Akechi momentarily lost his memories following his near death.)
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 10
Kudos: 120





	Stirring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ProfessionalCatFan (idemandahug)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idemandahug/gifts).



> My first p5 fic and I overcomplicate it with an AU that's only really used as a backdrop to two idiots fighting/flirting in a cafe. Yeah, that sounds about right.
> 
> I mean I wrote this for a friend who really loves the game and this pairing. Next time I'll get their advice so that what I write actually comes across as educated. But, for now, surprise gift! Hope you like it! Cross-posted from tumblr because why not.
> 
> Shuake is a good ship. I might want to extend this in the future because...that AU, yo. But for now, here's a simple moment.

_It’s a bad idea to keep coming here._

It’s not the first time he’s thought that. It won’t be the last either. It’s also neither the first nor the last time he found himself in front of the same cafe, staring through the window where a certain waiter was washing tables. When that waiter glanced in his direction, he offered an achingly friendly wave.

And there was the slightest twitch at his lips.

Akira tries not to react, tries to keep his own usual grin as the other walks towards him and opens the door.

“Welcome, again,” is said oh so cheerfully. Perfect waiter behavior, and it never gets less amusing on this person. With their chestnut-brown hair tied back and that auburn gaze now striking. “I’m starting to think you’re obsessed.”

“Am I that obvious?” He fakes sheepishness, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m actually still gathering up the courage to ask you out.”

Another twitch to those features. And maybe, just maybe, Akira’s heart leaps a little.

“Ha-ha.” The waiter shakes his head. “Well, you haven’t tipped into harassment yet, I suppose. Unless you actually plan on loitering.”

“I’m good with actually paying for something,” he said.

“Then hurry up and come inside.” It was almost snapped at him, but the waiter was back to gentle smiles and a friendly demeanor as Akira followed his lead. He picked up a menu, leading Akira to his usual table, offering that same vapid smile as before. “The usual, I presume?”

“Yeah,” Akira replied, almost absently. “The usual. But maybe something sweet to go with it? Or maybe something spicy. What do you think? Pancakes or curry?”

The waiter froze momentarily, face tightening for a moment. Akira noticed this, and they both reached the threshold of how much they were willing to overlook. If not for the setting, things between them would have erupted on the spot.

Instead, the waiter inhaled sharply, fingers going briefly to his nametag. The name printed on there was just another obvious lie.

“Curry,” was said through gritted teeth. “I think curry suits you best.”

Akechi spun on his heel and stomped away before Akira could say anything else. And he’s really not surprised. He’s nervous as hell, but not surprised. It’s not like brimming tension was unfamiliar when it came to one Akechi Goro.

_How nostalgic. He really hasn’t changed from back then at all. Still all fake smiles and broiling with fury. That’s my Akechi alright._

Akira does straighten up, hoping that Akechi doesn’t take this moment to flee the scene. But when he squirms to try and see into the kitchen, there’s not much to look at. Just a bland set piece. Clean, but boring.

When Akechi stepped back out, he avoided his stare. He just went straight to making coffee as if on autopilot, although Akira could definitely criticize his technique. Too much of a shaky hand. Too hasty with the pouring. Not nearly enough creative flair. Clumsy in how he still seemed intimidated by syrup. Endearing in how he was now considerably flustered in handing him the cup.

“I don’t know why you even come here,” he remarked with a huff. “It’s clear I’m still an amateur.”

_When I first came here, he was pretty earnest. It was unsettling. Adorable, but unsettling._

“I’m pissed you lied to me, by the way,” Akechi said. “Remember? When I first asked how it was? And you said it was great? Spineless coward.”

Akira shrugged, sipping at his coffee. His face pinched a little at the bitterness of it. Akechi’s messed up the flavor before, and his taste buds are still too refined to overlook it. Still, he offers Akechi an easy grin.

“It’s great. Delicious. I love it.”

“I hate you.”

He can’t help but laugh, especially at how Akechi’s cheeks were steaming red. When Akechi sat in the chair across from him, it was with enough force to cause the table to rattle. The coffee spilled a little onto his lap. It definitely burned through his pants. And Akira kept smiling at him stupidly.

“Your service skills are slipping,” he pointed out. “At this rate, you’re going to get fired.”

“This place is going out of business,” Akechi retorted. “As you no doubt noticed, it doesn’t exactly compare to LeBlanc.”

“I mean, few places do.” Akira shrugged again. “But, I mean, that’s still a shame to hear. I’ll miss ordering from you.”

Akechi’s eyes rolled irritably.

“I’m sure. You definitely weren’t coming here for the food.”

“It wasn’t bad. Do give the owner my regards.”

“I’ll be sure.” Akechi waved his hand. “Considering you were one of the very few regulars, it’ll be appreciated. Although you were also just one of many shallow idiots who only stopped by because you saw a pretty face.”

“You are pretty,” Akira hummed, almost admiringly. Akechi scowled at him.

“Well, great news. I have other jobs you can harass me at. I’ll have to get another to replace this one soon. Bills have to be paid, after all.” Akechi sighed. “And the living expenses just keep building. Just last week, my bathtub broke. Quite the fall from grace, wouldn’t you say?”

“Cheers to adulthood,” Akira chirped, lifting his cup. “You should see my student debt. So many zeroes it could make an old man cry.”

Even now, he got a little weepy remembering. And of course, Akechi giggled at the idea of him in pain. Adorably, at that.

He wanted it to last. He desperately wanted that more than he wanted a lot of things. Of course, Akechi’s smile drops as easily as it comes.

“So,” Akira can only say. “How much do you remember now?”

“Enough.” With a rather cold expression, Akechi pinched at his fringe. “It’s gross, remembering. Like wiggling your way into a second skin. It’s also not fun waking up from the nightmares. The worst part is that there are still things missing. I don’t know what they are and I dread finding out, but I can tell they’re there. Like...there’s some old bastard I’m supposed to hate with every fiber of my being, right? Even more than I hate you.”

“Yeah.” Akira nodded. “There was.”

“Oh yeah, you and your little posse were in the business of _mind control_ , right?” Akechi asks almost saccharinely. “I remember snippets of that. But I feel like it’s still far beyond my current understanding.”

“I mean, it's complicated,” Akira mutters into his coffee helplessly. “It’d take a while to explain, but it’s impossible these days. For what it’s worth.”

“Mmhm.” Akechi’s gaze was lidded. “Whatever those means were, I did terrible things through them, too.”

Akechi didn’t wear gloves anymore. It’s not the first time this has struck Akira as odd. But he does cast a glance at the other’s fingernails, noting how he had a tendency to pick at them. When he takes and squeezes Akechi’s hand, his first thought is marveling at how cold the skin is.

Akechi’s expression is a complicated one. His eyebrows are knitted, his face pinched like he’s anxious. Akira’s thumb running over his knuckles only causes his brow to furrow more and get his face that much closer to distorting. It’s nothing like in dreams or romantic fantasies, to be sure, but that Akechi has yet to stab his hand with a fork is progress.

“You still haven’t told me where else you work so that I can check up on you,” Akira said. “Will you keep your hair tied up?”

“Yes, but because of the wind not because of you.”

“Ooh, outdoor labor.” Akira crooned. “Will I get to see you lift?”

“I direct traffic, dumbass.”

“Oh, that’s actually terrifying. Too much power.”

Akechi snorted before slipping his hand out of Akira’s grip. Akira lets him, although his eyebrow waggles.

“One sec. The food should be ready.”

Akechi does wipe his hands off before going on his way. Perhaps out of spite. Perhaps out of habit. Maybe he actually was self-conscious about it. If he brought it up, he’d just get shut down so he was stuck pondering. There were many things he could only wonder about these days.

Like what he was doing right now, exactly? What was he hoping to accomplish? With Akechi mostly revived and his memories mostly restored, what was supposed to happen between them next?

_“Our relationship is purely about equal terms.”_

There was no reason to fight anymore. There was also no reason to see each other. And yet, the idea of just letting Akechi go and turning his back like none of it ever really mattered as if their interactions had only ever been out of necessity...and maybe some of them were. Maybe there were utilitarian exchanges between billiards and coffee.

If he really believed that, he wouldn’t have approached Akechi again in the first place. The sentiment of closure only held so much weight when it came to the messy relationships between messy human beings.

_“If we had only met a few years earlier.”_

Someday, it’ll be a few years later.

“Eat up,” Akechi announced, setting the plate before him. “Also, hurry. You’re the last customer for today and closing hours are coming up.” Akechi checks his watch. Akira notices that it’s pretty cheap. That the face is cracked. “I have another shift after this.”

“Can I come?”

“Only if you can keep up with a bike.”

“I definitely can.”

Akechi gives him a look but the corner of his lips twist the slightest bit upward. With a faded smile, Akechi taps his broken watch. Akira takes his first bite.

The curry was pretty unremarkable as always, but there was still that bit of spice he liked. There was nostalgia to this moment that helped sweeten the deal. It was overall pleasant, even if it, of course, wasn’t going to last. Still.

“It’s quite the run,” Akechi was muttering into his palm, looking away with a light pink dusting his cheeks. “There’s room on the bike. Just this once.”

He had a good feeling about the future.


End file.
